


Madder and Madder

by crazymak316



Category: Alice in Wonderland - Fandom, Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Alice in Wonderland Elements, Alice/Mad Hatter - Freeform, Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Alice in Wonderland Fusion, Arranged Marriage, Background Relationships, Crossover, F/F, John is Alice, M/M, Past Mary Morstan/John Watson, Read to find out who the others are, Relationship between Alice and the Mad Hatter, Sherlock is the Mad Hatter
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-08-11
Updated: 2019-08-11
Packaged: 2020-07-23 03:55:35
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,996
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20001919
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/crazymak316/pseuds/crazymak316
Summary: John always knew that he was a curious boy, and that ever since he was a young lad, he lived for the adventure. Never did he think that would one day lead to him following a chubby white rabbit with spectacles into a bloody rabbit hole...





	1. Down Holes and Through Doors

John always knew that he was a curious boy, and that ever since he was a young lad, he lived for the adventure. Never did he think that would one day lead to him following a chubby white rabbit with spectacles into a bloody rabbit hole, falling down down down until he couldn’t fall anymore, losing said rabbit when he landed, and getting locked into a dark room with a table larger than him, on it a key to which probably opened one of the many doors that lined the red velvet walls.

Now John Watson might of been a short man to begin with, but this was ridiculous. The table stretched far above his head, and yet, wasn’t even close to touching the vast, caved ceiling. He didn’t even need to try all the doors to know they wouldn’t work, and it would be just with his luck that the only way of attempting to open the doors was impossible.

“Oh well, nothing is impossible, dear.”

John whirled around, blonde brows furrowed, looking for the culprit who had spoken to him. But no one was there?

“Bloody brilliant, I’m hearing voices. Just what I need. You’re going crazy Watson.”

“I wouldn’t say that. And how convenient that I love company!” The voice said again.

“Okay...hullo?”

“Hello, dear!”

John brought his hand up and pinched the bridge of his nose. Surely this had to be a dream. After all, nobody in their right mind would find themselves in a similar situation, especially if there was the potential threat of danger. People just didn’t do that...but then again, ‘you’re not normal people, are you John?’ His own voice spoke back to him this time, and he let out a sigh. Not in his right mind was more like it.

“Where...” he licked his lips, “where exactly are you, if I may ask?”

“Yoo-hoo, down here you darlin’ boy.” He looked down, startled to see the doorknob to the door nearest to him had a face.

“Oh my god!”

“No, just a doorknob. Though, you do flatter me. And so handsome too. If I wasn’t made of brass I’d be blushing.”

“I’m...really talking to a doorknob. I’m farther off my rocker than I thought. This is...very worrying.”

“Oh don’t do that dearie, we’re all a little mad, after all. Don’t you think?” She chuckled, looking at the blonde man earnestly.

“No,” He denied, “I’m a doctor. I’m supposed to be helping the mad, not...falling into madness myself.”

“Funny choice of words, seeing as you took quite the tumble there.”

“That I did.” John agreed in absentminded thought, the reminder of his predicament all too vivid. “Speaking of, where did that pesky rabbit get off too? Did you see him?”

“Sure did.”

John stared at the doorknob incredulously, baffled by the lack of further explanation. Shouldn’t that have been implied?

“Okay, and did you see where he went?”

“Well through here of course!”

John did everything he could to suppress the incoming facepalm, seeing that if this conversation continued the way it was currently going, it would be ‘going’ absolutely nowhere. A little like himself at the moment.

“Look, could you just tell me how I can get out of here?”

“I could, but...”

“But? But what?” He snapped, getting a bit frustrated. Why couldn’t he just get a straight answer?

“My my, testy now aren’t we, dearie? No need with the tude, I’m not your mother.” She clucked.

John’s nostrils flared, and his jaw clenched, muscles rippling against his jawbone as he tried to keep his calm. With clenched fists, he took a deep breath and count backwards from ten. The brass woman seemed to be smiling, as if she didn’t have care at all against his rising anger.

“Could you just please tell me how I can leave?”

“So soon?”

“Yes!” He yelled, rubbing at his temples.

“You didn’t ask me my name. I barely get any visitors anymore, and nobody spares a little old lady doorknob a second glance.”

John frowned, actually feeling a bit guilty at that, so he sighed and gave in. “Alright, well then, what’s your name?”

“Oh! How kind of you to ask. My name is Martha Hudson, but that’s Mrs. Hudson to you dear.”

“Okay, Mrs. Hudson?”

“Yes?”

“May I please go through your door?”

The doorknob huffed and clucked at him again. “I’m afraid you’ll need the key for that.”

“What?! You mean...that key? The one that’s all the way up there? On the table...up there?”

“That’d be the one.”

“Bloody hell.”

John turned himself around and looked up. Having his thoughts confirmed wasn’t nearly as satisfying as it should have been, since the thought actually being confirmed was how impossible getting the key would be. The only key, to the only working door, to his only way out, by the way. The blonde let out a groan.

“I don’t suppose I can climb it?”

“Afraid not.”

“Right. Do you happen to know how I can retrieve said key?”

“Of course, you silly boy, there should be something in that chest right over there, for you.”

“Chest? What chest? There wasn’t a...” he trailed off, as sure enough there it was: an ornate wooden chest right under the large table, that had to have appeared right behind him, because it wasn’t there before. He bit back and suppressed the urge to retort how useful that would’ve been earlier.

Instead, John cautiously approached, and lifted the latch, watching as the chest clicked open. He was wary, and in good taste, since he wasn’t really sure he could trust a mysterious object that suddenly ‘poofed’ into existence when he needed it. Though it certainly wasn’t the weirdest thing that happened to him today—but definitely fit right there on the ever growing list.

He glanced at Mrs. Hudson before inhaling sharply, and reached out, slowly opening the lid the rest of the way.

“Pastries? You’ve got to be kidding me. How in the bloody hell is a chest full of cakes and cookies going to help me get the key?”

“Look a little closer dear.”

John rolled his eyes, but did so anyway. He grabbed a small square shaped cake, and raised a brow.

“Eat me? Well not for nothing, and correct me if I’m wrong, but somehow I don’t really feel safe following the directions printed on a bloody cake. Especially a cake I got from a fucking chest that I’m certain wasn’t here before.”

Mrs. Hudson was silent, but staring at him pointedly. From the expression alone he knew it was either eat the the cake or kiss salvation goodbye.

“Oh bugger this.” John just went for it, and took a bite of the cake, chewing thoughtfully before swallowing.

Nothing immediately felt different, so he assumed it was safe. But when he went to turn towards Mrs. Hudson, he realized he could no longer see her. In fact, the large doors appeared to be a lot less large, and the room wasn’t as cavernous as it was when he was smaller.

Wait, smaller? John looked to his side as the thought breezed past, and noticed the table was indeed much smaller...but no, he was actually much bigger, wasn’t he? Hence the difference in the room’s proportions. After all, _he_ ate the cake.

The glass tabletop came up to about his hip now, much like the rest of the room which had evened out in proportion, making its contents, previously impossible, possible to reach out and touch. He couldn’t say that he ever consumed a cake that made him to grow—whether it was normal or larger than normal size, he did not know—but he still couldn’t help but think fleetingly for a moment how convenient that would’ve been in his childhood. Not the point, however.

He shook his head, and snatched the brass key, noticing it had the same swirl designs as Mrs. Hudson’s door did, and crouched down, ready to insert the key in the keyhole.

“Oh no dear, not yet.”

“What? Why not? I got the key.”

“Yes, but you’re far too large now to fit through!”

“Please tell me you aren’t serious.”

The silence he was met with answered that for him, and he let out a frustrated growl.

“Why are there so many goddamn rules?! All I want to do is go home. And to do that, I’ve got to go through this door, but every time I make progress it’s either this or that.”

“Don’t be discouraged dear. There’s always a way.”

John snorted. “Oh yeah? Then tell me, how do you suppose I get smaller? It can’t be the pastries since they apparently made me grow. So then what?”

“Well if I had to guess, dear, I’d say the vial of liquid right there, of course.”

“Right, of course, how convenient.” John said sarcastically, because sure enough there suddenly it was, just like the chest, a vial of liquid conveniently appearing in time for him to shrink.

He had no clue what this place was, but snatched the vial of liquid without much thought or further protest, because he figured the sooner he could get out the better. And apparently drinking mystery liquids and eating suspicious cakes was the way to that.

“Don’t suppose this is alcohol?”

“Don’t think so, sorry dear.”

“Of course not. Well, bottoms up.” John popped open the cork and tipped his head back, letting the cool blue liquid flow down his throat.

He coughed and sputtered a bit, slamming the empty glass back on the tabletop. He grimaced, and waited, and soon enough the room began to get bigger. On the way down, he snatched the key in his decent, and slipped it into his jacket pocket. When shrunken, he walked over to the door and pulled out the key.

“Mrs. Hudson, before I do this, can you please tell me if there’s anything else I need to do?”

The brass lady hummed in thought, before shifting her face side to side, which he was sure would’ve been the equivalent to someone shaking their head for a doorknob. “No, you’re all set dear.”

“Alright. Yeah, alright.”

With a deep breath John raised the offending key to the door’s keyhole, Mrs. Hudson mouth open wide. The corner of her eyes were crinkled in a smile, welcoming him to continue. So he put it in and twisted, sucking in a breath this time at the resulting click. Holding it, he slowly reached out and grasped the knob, or Mrs. Hudson’s nose oddly enough, and turned it.

He let out the breath, eyes wide in shock when at last the door opened, ignoring the strange fact that it wasn’t the whole door, but in fact a smaller portion of the bottom of the actual door. It didn’t matter anyways, because it was _open_ , and he was just that closer to getting home.

Watson looked over at Mrs. Hudson and thanked her, before stepping through. But of course this place was absolutely backwards, allowing John no bit of relief, and when he went to turn back around towards his brass friend to express his surprise, the door slammed shut, causing him to jump, and then disappeared as if it was never there in the first place.

_What was wrong with this world?_

He swallowed and looked around, afraid that if he pondered the question too hard he just might find out.


	2. Very Late and Really Lost

Gemstone coloured skies stretched endlessly in a brilliant shade of turquoise, and faded into the soft flowery pastels of lilac, with fluffy rose clouds like candy floss. Humongous plant life loomed, casting shadows across tall emerald grassland; a cityscape—reminding John of home in some odd roundabout way.

Birds somehow both common and prehistoric in species flew overhead, and critters that varied from bugs to shit he had never seen before scampered about, all larger than John himself. It was all a little breathtaking, in fact he could hardly believe his eyes, though he’d definitely appreciate it a lot more under different circumstances.

“Bloody hell...” he ran a hand through his styled blonde hair, having the sudden need to do something, anything.

“Should’ve known it wasn’t going to be that easy.”

With another quick look around, John took a cautious step forward, then another, and another after that, until he set a comfortable pace for himself walking forward into whatever may lay ahead.

Despite his prior animosity to the situation he seemingly _fell_ into , which still held true on many accounts, he couldn’t help but also be a little terrified—okay maybe a lot terrified. But could you blame him? Sure he was a thirty-something odd year old adult male, but he was cast into a world unknown with absolutely no inside knowledge of anything. Not to mention, the most logical answer to all of this was that he was still completely mad.

Talking doorknobs? Man-sized rabbit holes? Magical underground worlds with cakes and drinks that made people shrink and grow? It’s was like the plot of some wild children’s book. Not his reality.

He took a deep breath, and reached over to pinch himself. Maybe this was all a dream. That seemed like his best lead; he could have easily fallen asleep at some point today. Though he feared the implications to that being the case, because—Christ that might even worse—he’ll probably be labeled as the worst groom, falling asleep during his wedding. Upsetting not only his fiancé, but his family and hers...

He cursed when the nerves sent the response of pain in the area, and he removed his fingers, dropping them to his side. His suit suddenly felt too tight, and he gave the collar of the blue, black trimmed fabric of the suit jacket a tug, though it was a useless gesture.

“Late, late, late...” Then came a distant muttering, causing John’s brow to furrow.

Pushing aside his flaring flight reflexes, he followed the sound curiously. He placed his hand firmly on the base of a giant mushroom and peeked around the corner, letting out a small audible gasp at what he found.

“Hey, you! Rabbit!”

The white rabbit looked up and regarded John with a curious stare, his little pink nose twitching as he sniffed. John approached slowly, keeping his eye on the damn animal that got him into this bloody mess—he refused to acknowledge the fact that he didn’t  _have_ to follow the rabbit into the hole but did anyways, just yet.

The rabbit thankfully didn’t move as he made his way out from behind the mushroom to him face to face, or whatever was equivalent to that when referring to a rabbit. At the closer distance, now with time to look instead of chase, he noticed the creature was wearing...clothes? A trench coat, a suede dark grey suit jacket, and a small checkered patterned collar shirt underneath, along with a striped tri-coloured tie, all fit to size, in fact. He was still wearing the spectacles John noticed earlier as well, though he found it odd that he was wearing all that at all.

“For Christ’s sake...” he said under his breath, staring at the white rabbit with befuddlement.

“You called?” The other said suddenly, reaching up to adjust his glasses. “And please do make it quick, I’m already late, and I’ve got errands to run.”

“What errands could you possibly have to run? There’s absolutely nothing here aside from wildlife!” John snapped, throwing his hands up in to the air dramatically.

“On the contrary.” The rabbit disagreed.

And apparently that was that, because the longer John waited for something more the _more_ disappointed he was.

“God, what is wrong with the things here?! Every bloody person—if I can even call them that, seeing as I’m talking to a bloody rabbit, and before it was a fucking doorknob, yeah a bloody fucking  _doorknob_ —I ask questions to, can’t give me one straight answer, or an answer at all! I’m lost, I don’t know where I am, and all I want to do is get back _home_ so I can get married. Is that such a hard request? I feel like I’m going mad stuck in this place!”

The rabbit then chuckled, snapping John’s attention away from his rant, and causing his pacing—he didn’t even realize he started—to stop.

“Are you...laughing? Why in the hell would you be laughing? What’s so funny?” If looks could kill, his glare would easily have murdered that rabbit and used its pelt as a nice coat for his fiancé.

“Oh it’s nothing, you just reminded me of someone then. Believe it or not, you’re not the first person to tell me that.” The rabbit had the audacity to smile at that, which John thought was more irritating than Mrs. Hudson’s roundabout answers and ‘more than lacking’ directions.

“Not the first? Wait...who was the first? Does that mean there’s more people other than me?”

The rabbit’s watch beeped and, “Sorry. My time is up, I’ve got to go! I’m already so late...”

“No! Wait...please.” John begged, calling after him. The rabbit gave him a sympathetic smile, and hopped away hastily.

John stared after him, eyes wide in shock at being denied what he wanted yet again. His jaw snapped shut as he continued to watch the rabbit’s retreating form, his eyes narrowing moments later, an idea popping into his mind. If he wasn’t going to get what he asked for, then he’d take it.

With a growl he broke out into a run, as fast as the unknown terrain and black patent leather dress shoes would allow, and attempted to follow the rabbit. And it was attempt, because as soon as he rounded the turn—the same corner the rabbit turned to only a mere seconds ago—he was gone.

“You got to be fucking kidding me!” John yelled, threading his fingers through his blonde hair and pulling at it frustratedly.

He took a look around, finding himself completely lost in the jungle of supersized madness.

“Great, just what I need.” He rolled his eyes and sat down on a rock laying nearby, praying to god it wasn’t sentient like most things in this world.

John buried his face in his hands and dragged them down, letting his body slump in defeat. Though lucky for him the rock was just that, a rock.

A soft breeze blew by as he sat there, rustling through the overgrown grass, and making the large plant life sway. It carried along the sigh that escaped his lips, and took it away, unfortunately leaving his disappointment behind. He was more angry at himself now, for bringing about this colossal mistake. After all, no one forced him to follow that damn white rabbit. (There it was).

In fact, John wasn’t even sure why he did. When he looked back on it, he couldn’t recall what possessed him to ever do something so stupid. He just did it without a second thought. Sure, he was known for making crazy decisions that made people unhappy. For example, joining the army so that it could pay for his medical school. Mary had been less than enthused when he had told her he was doing it, no matter what anyone said otherwise. She was even less supportive when he claimed it was his calling, where he belonged. That it was a step he needed to take to progress in life. And it was. He loved it, the adrenaline, saving his comrades when all hope was lost, getting them home to their partners and friends and families. No one understood how worth it was, not Mary, not his mother, no one; they still didn’t. She just wanted him there with her, safe and normal.

Then he had to go get injured, which then got him invalided home. His now fiancé but girlfriend at the time was furious, and his injury only served as a big ‘I told you so’. When the truth of the matter was, he didn’t even mind being injured; he was in the army for crying out loud. It wasn’t like he didn’t _know_ the risks. He was surprised he didn’t get hurt sooner, being in active battle, constantly getting shot at and blown up, always sewing up limbs and other wounds, extracting shrapnel and debris while those things were happening. The thing that bothered him the most was being inactive, absolutely useless. Sure he got back to work eventually, but it wasn’t the same as war.

Mary was happy though; happy that she got her mundane white picket fence life, even if it meant John had to suffer. He even went out and bought a ring to appease her. He wouldn’t admit that to stop her from complaining about not being married like her other friends was also apart of it. The most important thing would always be that his fiancé is satisfied, because he loves her. They’re getting married after all, today in fact. Or well, whenever he gets out of here.

So yeah, sure what he’s currently got up there isn’t what he wanted exactly, but how could anyone ever be sure what it is they want from life? Certainly not to be trapped in an underground world with funky magic and things that shouldn’t be alive—or talking—that’s for sure. What was even the point of this anyways?

Oh right. So what if making brash, hasty decisions is actually what John does best? Doesn’t mean he would rather be here! It’s not like he wants to get away from the woman he loves, they’re getting married. And he wants that...kind of. And he certainly can’t forget about his family...who consists of a deceased drunken bum of a father, an overbearing mother, and an estranged sister—not to mention the high class no face relatives (including Mary’s own family) that his mother has tried to emulate her entire life. Yeah leaving them behind would be...just awful. It’s definitely not that this world is somehow subconsciously manifested to give him an out.

John swallowed, and quickly packed that thought away for never. He would steer clear of opening that can of worms, not that there was really any need. There wouldn’t be anything to find down that train of thought, he was certain. Just to be extra careful though, he pushed it even farther away; repression and suppression instead of depression he always says (he’s never said that). Definitely healthy (no it’s not). He would know he’s a doctor (that one’s true, but not the kind of doctor that helps psychologically—don’t go to him for help).

He watched the breeze pass to distract himself, listening to it whisper sweet nothings to the surrounding nature, until it’s final breath. He hoped another would replace it’s absence soon; he hate for the plants to get lonely. He wasn’t sure when wind started to giggle though. Or why it sounded feminine and plenty.

The doctor perked up, and looked over in the direction from where the sound was carried. God how he hoped that wasn’t actually air laughing.

Sure enough, more giggles were heard within yonder thicket. He bolted up, and followed the noise, praying that this wasn’t another trap. Though anything, he thought to himself, was better than sitting on that rock alone, his only company his own self-doubt.


End file.
